


Lovebug

by littlestdeath



Series: Love Me, Love You [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Body Horror, Boypussy, College, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlestdeath/pseuds/littlestdeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His teacher in all thing Emissary was the best. Not one cryptic comment that could be interpreted seven different ways, or archaic passages read aloud that don’t actually explain anything. Straight forward, to the point and every question answered.</p>
<p>Stiles almost cried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovebug

**Author's Note:**

> So. Some hard stuff in this one, per the warning, but I make it better by the end.
> 
> There's some good stuff along the way too, promise.
> 
> Enjoy!

The worst thing about picking a college to go away to was that he was picking a college to go away to.

He was leaving his father, his friends, his pack and his boyfriend behind. They were his people. The ones who knew him best. His support network.

He tried for a few weeks to convince them that he didn’t want to go to college, didn’t need it. That Deaton could teach him what he needed to know to protect the pack, and that was all that mattered. None of them put up with his bullshit. He and his father shouted, an argument just as vehement as the one they had had only a month before over werewolves being real and Stiles dating one. Stiles stormed out of the house and went looking for Derek, wanting a little solidarity.

Instead he found Derek with Deaton waiting in ambush. Deaton explained that there were those in-the-know at one of the California schools, people with a much wider base of knowledge than he himself who could instruct Stiles in the supernatural. That if he really wanted to be the Emissary for Hale pack, he should go and put in the work now so when he came back he was prepared. Then Deaton left Stiles alone with Derek.

Stiles was furious for all of five seconds. Then he saw the slump to Derek’s shoulders and the quiet sadness in his eyes and deflated.

“It’s so good between us. It’s so good with the pack. I don’t want to go.” Stiles said.

“I know. But if it’s going to stay that way in the future I need you to be strong. The pack needs you to be strong.” Derek shrugged. “I’m the alpha. I have to do what’s best for the pack.”

“Even convince me to go away?”

“Just for a few years. And it’s only a one hour drive.”

“I hate this.”

“Me too.”

 

^

 

(Quietly in the dark of Derek’s (their) bedroom, Stiles confesses how much he wants to go to college. Derek tells Stiles he already knew. They fuck slowly, face to face, neither of them able to look away.)

 

^

 

“Are you all set?”

“Yup.”

“Didn’t forget anything?”

“Lydia made my packing list, Dad. Of course I didn’t.”

“Did you remember your toothbrush?”

“Yes, Dad. I did. And even if I didn’t, I can buy a new one.”

“Good. That’s good. What about your-”

Stiles silenced his father with a hug. The Sheriff gripped him back just as tight.

 

^

 

“I can’t do this anymore, Derek.”

“ _Yes, you can_.”

“No, Derek, you don’t understand- there are boxers hanging from the ceiling fan.”

“ _That’s not_ -”

“The pizza box under his bed is molding. His laundry hasn’t been done in two weeks; I have series of time stamped photos as evidence. There is a dried condom stuck to the window frame that wasn’t there yesterday and his refrigerator occasionally moves like there’s something inside it.”

“ _Stiles, I_ -”

“Don’t tell me I need the people experience, Derek. This is not people experience. I’ve only seen him four times since school started and it’s been a month! And there’s no privacy Derek. None! I – I have to shower in the middle of the night and I have to wear swimming trunks because the assholes who live here like to play candid-camera and I can’t- I can’t- I want to go home!”

“ _Stiles. I’m coming up. And then we’ll find you an apartment. It’s going to be okay, I promise. Breathe with me_.”

Stiles sobs once, twice before he can pull a deep breath and start breathing with Derek.

 

^

 

Stiles shuddered and came, his walls clamping around Derek’s length. He flopped down on Derek, chest to chest on the small bed of his studio apartment. Derek was still hard inside him.

“Come on, baby,” Derek groaned when Stiles didn’t move after a long moment. “I wanna come in you.” Stiles heaved himself up and smiled at Derek.

“You only get to come after I have one more time, sweetheart.”

Derek’s eyes darkened and his hips stuttered. “ _Yeah_.”

Stiles settled back on his heels and grabbed one of Derek’s hands. He brought it to his mouth and licked at the first two fingers until they were good and wet and Derek was whining high in his throat. He pressed the fingers to his clit and grinned again.

“Well,” he said with a breathless laugh, “You’d better get to it.”

Derek whimpered and little and started rubbing at the fleshy bud.

“And if you- ngh- don’t make me come before you do,” Stiles panted, pinching one of his nipples, “I won’t blow you for a _month_.”

Derek growled, eyes red, and he started working over Stiles’ clit with greater determination.

It was a total lie, of course. Stiles loved sucking Derek’s cock almost as much as he loved getting fucked with it. But Derek didn’t need to know that.

 

^

 

His teacher in all thing Emissary was the best. Not one cryptic comment that could be interpreted seven different ways, or archaic passages read aloud that don’t actually explain anything. Straight forward, to the point and every question answered.

Stiles almost cried.

When his teacher Elinda, bewildered by his glistening eyes, asked what was going on he described his interactions with Deaton and the results of his high school escapades. She scowled.

“Fucking Druids. So _dramatic_ , the lot of them.”

Stiles laughed so hard he did cry.

 

^

 

“Stiles, this is Steven Ellsberg, the Alpha of pack Redwood.”

Elinda made the introduction carelessly. Stiles shook Steven’s hand, equally careless. When Stiles and his teacher continued their conversation from before the Redwood Alpha had come upon them strolling the campus walking paths, neither of them noticed the way his nostrils flared and his eyes burned red, looking Stiles up and down, hungry.

 

^

 

Stiles had spent his most recent formative years in a state of hyper vigilance; he had been kidnapped, assaulted, hunted, held at gun point, and hurt. He had seen his friends and loved ones hurt. He wasn’t a full emissary yet, but that didn’t mean he was beyond means.

When he became aware that he was being stalked across campus one day, he stopped trying to make it towards his apartment. Instead he made his way back towards the populated areas on campus. He made his way through common areas until he was back to his teacher’s office. Elinda was already gone. Stiles hastily turned to go back out.

Too late.

The hallway was empty but for two figures, one on either end boxing him in. Without looking at his cell phone, Stiles texted Derek.

_Lovebug_

Stiles had never been so grateful Derek had been paranoid and insisted on emergency one-word codes to call for help. He was only able to tell Derek he was about to be kidnapped, but that was going to have to be enough. The figures approached. Stiles wrapped his fingers around the silver knife he always carried with him now.

Like hell was he going quietly.

 

^

 

“Hello, Stiles.” Alpha Steven Ellsberg greeted him when he woke up. Stiles had dealt damage to the two werewolves who had come for him, but Stiles was only human, and he hadn’t been prepared for a fight. Stupid of him. Even away from Beacon Hills he should have known to be on guard. He always needed to be on guard.

Stiles was naked in a large bed, head throbbing. Steven was naked beside him. Stiles’ eyes welled with tears but he tried not to let them fall.

“Don’t worry,” Steven reached out and stroked across his stomach, “Once you have a belly full of pups, you’ll feel better.” He rolled on top of Stiles and pushed his legs apart.

He fought at first. It was his immediate reaction, but once he had exhausted himself against the alpha’s greater strength and stamina there was nothing to stop Steven from shoving his penis up Stiles’ vagina.

Stiles breathed thought the pain and endured, limp on the white sheets.

Once Derek got here, Steven was going to die.

 

^

 

Through the next day and a half, Stiles contemplated fighting him. Lashing out and making the alpha stop. He didn’t. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know where his clothes were, he didn’t have any way of making him stop or defending himself from others once he got away. So Stiles accepted the raping passively, conserving what strength he could, trying not to give Steven the satisfaction of his tears.

The alpha seemed entirely unconcerned by this and just kept fucking him, always on the wrong side of rough. Stile was swollen and he was sure he was bleeding a little from a torn inner wall, but he had no way of knowing, Steven never left him and alone and bound his hands to the head board when they slept.

But after the first half day, Stiles didn’t; care to check anymore. He was floating, removed from his body in some way, his mind protecting itself from the gross violation of his flesh. Derek was coming soon, he kept reminding himself. Derek was coming. It helped him endure the bruises and the pain and the bloodied lip and the deep aching throb in his cunt.

 

^

 

When Derek burst into the room with Scott and Elinda at his back, Steven was balls deep in Stiles, and Stiles was staring at the ceiling, silent as he had been this whole time, nose bleeding from when Steven had forced him to hands and knees and fucked him so hard he smashed his face into the head board.

Derek’s roar was a fearsome, terrible thing. Steven roared back but it lacked strength. He had been caught unawares. Derek ripped him from Stiles, claws going for his throat. Steven fought back. They tumbled from the room looking for more space to fight.

Scott and Elinda were at his side an instant later. Elinda’s hands gentle on his skin as she looked for broken bones under the bruises. Scott clutched at Stiles’ hand and peered at his face.

“Stiles, what did he do to you?” he asked in anguish.

Stiles assumed he wasn’t actually supposed to answer that question, and closed his eyes.

He was so tired.

 

^

 

When he woke up, he was in Derek’s bed in the house in Beacon Hills. Derek was a hulking mass at his bedside. Stiles reached out to cup his face.

“How did you kill him?” he asked with a cracking voice.

“Slowly,” Derek answered carefully covering Stiles’ hand with his own and tilting his head to sniff at Stiles’ wrist. “Broke his arms and legs over and over so he couldn’t get away. Cut him again and again so he’d bleed out and weaken. He begged before he died. I ripped his dick off and shoved it in his mouth until he choked to death.”

Stiles laughed and laughed and laughed until he cried and he tugged at Derek until his lover wrapped him up in his arms and held him.

 

^

 

Stiles would have nightmares, but no worse than the ones he already had.

He would be hesitant to let Derek touch him, but Derek was patient and never pushed and Stiles came to trust another with his body again.

(Not that he didn’t stop trusting Derek, it was just that it took a while to convince his hindbrain that Steven and Derek were different alphas.)

Derek and Stiles would find their equilibrium again and Stiles would let the trauma heal with time. It would take more than year, more than two really, and it would never be quite the same, but they adjusted and moved on.

 

^

 

“Negative,” Dr. Delacroix said with a smile. “No disease and no baby. I promise.”

Stiles and Derek leaned against one another in relief.

 

^

 

It wasn’t how he wanted to tell Scott, much less the pack.

Stiles had had vague notions of dropping the bomb on them when he was already pregnant at some hazy future date. But that choice had been taken away from him. He’d had more than one panic attack over what the pack would say.

He was almost proved right.

“Jesus, Stiles,” Jackson sneered the first time the pack met after Stiles had physically recovered and been let out of bed by a worried and still paranoid Derek. “I always knew you were a pussy, I just didn’t know it was literally.”

“At least now we know why Derek’s keeping you around,” Erica added, red lips pulled into a smirk.

Blood drained from Stiles’ face. What was he going to do? What would Derek say? Would he change his mind? What about Scott? Did he agree? What was the point of college now? He was going to be Pack Emissary, but if they didn’t want him anymore, what was he doing? What would he do now? Derek was paying for his apartment, where was he going to live?

Stiles was down in a panic attack so fast he didn’t even know what was going on until it was done and he woke stretched out on the floor where he had collapsed when his body had convinced his brain he wasn’t getting oxygen.

Jackson and Erica were hovering over him with carefully controlled expression.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles slurred. “Should go.” He rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl away.

 

^

 

It took a while for Stiles’ wits to return enough for Erica and Jackson to make a proper apology of it. They had been joking, carelessly cruel, but only joking. They had seen too much weird shit since Peter had fucked up everything to worry over something as small as Stiles having girl parts when he was a boy.

 

^

 

And then, nothing.

 

^

 

And more nothing.

 

^

 

Everyone knew and the world hadn’t ended. Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised.

Stiles had a boypussy. So? It didn’t effect anyone else. And his closest friends were creatures of the night, they generally had more important things to deal with and think about than the fact that Stiles had a viable uterus.

It was his personal business, and just like the day and a half he spent in Steven’s bed, no one pushed him about it or asked invasive questions. It was, overall, a non-event.

Just one more thing that added to the background of Beacon Hills.

 

^

 

Wrapped up in Derek on the narrow bed of his studio, relaxing after a day of playing catch up from his impromptu time away, Stiles thought maybe he could get used to the idea of it.

Maybe he didn’t have to hate himself quite so much anymore.


End file.
